Treasure Island

Stanley Cooper

(August 4th,1926 / New York City)

Flying Masochists


A masochist feels no cheer
Traveling on trains
Trains are not enough austere
For his love affair with pain

We need no further evidence
Why he loves to fly
The bumps from all the turbulence
Gives him his fly-high

He truly loves to wing-it
Above the clouds so near
At heights he knows will bring-it
That fear he holds so dear

He usually doesn’t fly first-class
First-class comfort’s not for him
There’s nothing that could pain surpass
He enjoys things harsh and grim

He yearns for bumpy touchdowns
And dampish ocean spills
Would love the pilots breakdown
Of all his flying skills

Masochists truly need their hurt
The worse things are, the better
That’s why they with pain assert
Flying fits them to the letter

Submitted: Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Edited: Friday, September 24, 2010
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  • David Tanguay (9/26/2006 12:53:00 PM)

    Hey Stan, I had to look up masochists in the dictionary to find the meaning in your poem. Now I understand, this guy is some kind of nut case
    good one (Report) Reply

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